


Into the flood again

by theelusiveflamingo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A Bit of Fingering, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But Not Much, Dingy Motel Rooms, M/M, Smutty Westeros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 13:11:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2733833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theelusiveflamingo/pseuds/theelusiveflamingo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Davos is released on parole, Stannis wonders how much will have changed for them.</p><p>It turns out some things never do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the flood again

**Author's Note:**

> Written back in August but never posted. Until now!
> 
> The title is from "Would," by Alice in Chains. Honestly, it's mostly because I was listening to that song at one point while writing this. But the line, and the song, did seem appropriate.

They had to walk up a flight of stairs to access the room. The stairs were made up of a strangely-yielding metal that clanged and buckled with every footstep, but for once, Stannis’s concerns were focused on something other than the practicalities of his surroundings. There was only one person who could make him feel that way. Only one person who’d ever made him feel that way.

That person was here, walking just a few paces ahead of him, clutching their one plastic key card in a way that would tell a casual onlooker nothing. But Stannis could read the language of his hands as though it was a word on a page.   _Pride_ was what Davos’s hand showed him this evening. Davos was proud.

*

_Stannis had heard prison could change a man, but as soon as he turned the car down Davos’s street, he saw the door to one of the apartments just ahead open. Davos was as punctual as ever._

_The Cape Wrath housing complex looked as it always had. Stannis had had no cause to visit Marya and the boys, though many nights he shared a bitter laugh with himself over this thought. Choosing a simple casserole recipe from a cookbook, bringing the piping hot dish to the apartment and knocking on the door. Good evening, Mrs. Seaworth. We don’t know each other from Adam, but here is a casserole. May it fill you up just as your husband once did to me._

_He shrugged off the obscene thought as he brought the car to a stop outside of number 36, Cape Wrath Way._

_Davos looked taller, leaner. His clothing had never been ornate—something which Stannis found appealing—but the things he wore seemed greyer. His jeans bagged slightly._ _By societal standards, the look should not have been attractive. But Stannis caught the stirrings of an erection in his slacks. He shifted in his seat like a teenager at the thought of what Davos’s body looked like, of how it was moving under that grey clothing._

*

So transfixed was Stannis by the workings of Davos’s thighs and rear that he hardly noticed the creaks and wails of the unfortunate staircase. Normally he and Davos would walk side by side, but then again, Stannis wasn’t sure if it was right to expect _normally_ to automatically occur after one was just released on parole. He chose to take advantage of the upset in their routine and watched the way Davos’s clothes moved with his muscles, _tsk_ -ed at the pilling on his sweater, and marveled at the greying of his hair. Davos’s hair was greyer than Stannis’s own; he’d been in prison, and yet, _and yet,_ there was a youthfulness in him today that Stannis doubted he’d ever had in his own youth.

Davos paused outside the door to their room. He was running the plastic card over the weathered door, his tongue wetting the corners of his mouth.

“Are you planning on opening it?” Stannis asked. He was standing so close to Davos now he could smell all of their years of waiting on his skin. It took every ounce of strength in his body not to shove Davos against the grimy exterior wall of the motel, push a knee into his crotch, and kiss him for all he was worth.

Davos laughed a short, sharp laugh. “I’m just thinking of all the nights I spent in there imagining this exact moment.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, I imagined what you’d be wearing, how much you’d smile, what you’d smell like, whether or not you’d give me a lecture I don’t need…” He slid the card into the lock. The click was the most satisfying sound Stannis thought he’d ever heard. “I also imagined who would make the first move.”

“And which of us was that?” Stannis asked as they stepped over the threshold and into the gloomy room, together.

“You’ll find out.”

Stannis had wondered if they’d begin the night lovingly, like two adults with children do while catching up over a tall glass of something (only in this case, the tall glass would be sex.) But damn that all to hell, he thought as his lips found Davos’s and their hands scrambled to each other’s belt buckles. It had been too long. There was no need to wait. Even adults could indulge.

His mouth recalled the rough feel of Davos’s tongue as it caressed the tip of his. He groaned hard against those lips and that greying stubble as his hand slipped inside Davos’s jeans and found the heat of Davos’s erection. Even through a layer of fabric, that flesh felt as though it burned him, and he _wanted_ —recalled the feeling of Davos’s cock stretching him familiarly, thoroughly, wanted the pain it would bring him tonight.

“Not yet,” Davos mumbled against his lips, the fingers on his left hand (never _shortened,_ never _strange,_ never anything but _Davos’s fingers_ ) prodding Stannis’s hand away. “We’re still following my fantasies, yeah? Get on the bed.”

Davos walked him there, one solid step forward for every one of Stannis’s shaky steps backwards, and then they were on the bed, tearing shirts and underwear off with all the maneuvering around limbs that came from an urgent lack of finesse. Their cocks brushed together with a jolt of pleasure that drew their lips together into a frantic kiss.

“You brought the lube, right?”

“The bottle is in the pocket of my slacks, which you so hastily dumped on the floor.”

When Davos came back up from the floor, he held the small bottle in his hands, but the expression on his face had changed from one of lust to one that was something softer.

“The things I like about you never change,” he said. “You have no idea how much I appreciated that while I was in there.”

“You’ve chosen an interesting time for sentimentality.”

“I think I deserve a little sentimentality.” He began to stroke Stannis’s cheeks and neck, caressing the muscles there. “But, you know, I even imagined you saying that.”

Their hands slipped together. The moment of stillness that followed, full of nothing but their breaths, sent a new rush of blood to Stannis’s cock.

“Like I said. The things I like about you don’t change.”

*

_“Your beard looks good grey.”_

_Stannis didn’t feel the need to begin this first conversation with some sort of polite preamble. What would be the purpose of that? Davos looked good with a greying beard. He looked earthy, modest, distinguished. And he knew how much his compliments were worth to Davos. This was the benefit of only doling out praise when praise was deserved._

_“And you were wearing that sweater the last time I saw you. Shireen hasn’t bought you any new sweaters for Christmas?”_

_“A card from her is more than enough.”_

_The car turned out of Cape Wrath and onto the service road. Before them was the highway. After that, the motel. Stannis opened his window a crack for some air, but the breeze only stoked the giddy flames that danced in his gut and threatened his composure._

_“I don’t know what the fuck to do first,” Davos said. “Kiss you? Talk to you? Touch you like it’s prom night?”_

_Those damned flames again, roiling up his throat._

_“Fuck it, I can do all three.” Davos’s big, calloused hand found its way to Stannis’s thigh and caressed him there. Stannis gripped the steering wheel as the hand crept up, up, up and stopped at the crease where his thigh met his torso. Davos’s thumb slipped slowly up and down, up and down the crease. Stannis felt a jolt of heat in his cock, the bulge in his pants now embarrassingly exposed, but Davos did not move his hand further._

_The distinguished, modest, earthy greying beard scratched at Stannis’s cheek, but those lips were as soft as they ever had been._

_“I missed you.”_

*

Davos was on top of him now, grinding against him almost unconsciously as they kissed, their cocks brushing together, tips gradually growing slick. Stannis pressed his hips up against Davos’s heat, the friction making his eyes shut, despite how much he wanted them to stay open.

“Fuck,” Davos breathed against Stannis’s neck. “Your cock feels good. You feel good.”

Then Davos was sliding down, his hands cupping Stannis’s thighs, then running his nails softly over the sensitive skin there. Stannis arched up towards him. Davos chuckled.

Without warning, all contact with Davos was gone, leaving Stannis feeling cold, and then there was the telltale _snap_ of the bottle of lubricant opening.

“I’m not ready,” Stannis said, his hand sliding down to his own cock as soon as he heard the bottle snap open. He’d be embarrassed by this Pavlovian response, by the way this sound made him unconsciously touch himself, jerk himself into readiness, but the way Davos’s eyes flicked over to his cock made him feel something other than embarrassment.

“As much as I like watching you do that, you might want to hold off a bit.”

“Oh?”

“Actually, yeah. Hands off. I want to try something…”

Those shortened fingers coaxed Stannis’s legs up, exposing his ass to the humid motel-room air, and then the cold shudder that came from a lubed finger teasing him there.

“God, Davos…”

They’d done this a million times before. It had to have been a part of Stannis’s muscle memory at this point, and the thought was intoxicating---his body was Davos’s, just as Davos’s was his. He exhaled, relaxing as he always was able to do with Davos so near, and then groaned at the sudden feeling of fullness.

“Fuck, I missed you.”

It was amazing how one finger could make him feel. Stannis clutched the thin comforter as Davos slowly worked his finger in and out, twisting it from side to side, making low noises under his breath every time Stannis’s hips jerked towards him. His cock felt so heavy and thick it hurt, and he reached down again to stroke himself.

“Uh-uh, don’t touch,” Davos said.

“Are you serious?”

“This is the rest of what I’ve been imagining.” Stannis groaned, his muscles clenching around Davos’s finger. “Don’t you want to hear the rest of it?”

“This flirtation doesn’t become you,” Stannis managed to gasp out. “Go ahead and tell me.”

“I want to make you come without touching your cock,” Davos said. “I want to see that. That’s what I’ve been thinking about.”

“You’re going to kill me.”

Now the finger was gone, and Davos’s cock nudged at his asshole. It was the sort of sensation you didn’t remember until it returned after an absence.

“I hope not,” Davos said. “That’d be fucked-up, huh? We wait this long and then you die from not being able to touch your cock?”

He slid in, slow, _intensely,_ if such a thing could be done intensely, and then waited, the beard scratching Stannis’s extended legs as he kissed them.Then he began to thrust, still going slow, knowing Stannis would need the time to get used to the sensation, but Stannis had long since lost his composure and wrung the now-wrinkled comforter with his hands as Davos filled him.

He shifted his hips and then Davos’s cock was nudging at his prostate insistently, filling Stannis’s cock and toes and stomach and chest and _heart,_ damn it, _heart,_ with white-hot heat that built to an intensity Stannis had never felt before. He was floating. He had left his aging body behind; he had left the motel behind. There was nothing in the world but Davos’s strong body claiming his once more.

Davos’s balls bounced against his ass—Stannis could feel their fullness—and the calloused fingers gripped his legs so tight Stannis would’ve felt pain if he was able to feel anything other than Davos’s cock bringing him closer and closer and—

“I missed you, Stannis,” Davos panted out, and Stannis came from those words, from the sight of Davos’s eyes locked on his, wanting nothing but him, _devouring_ him.

“You look good like that,” Davos said, looking down at the sticky mess that now covered Stannis’s stomach. “I forgot how good you look like that.”

“What happens next in your fantasy?” Stannis said, his eyes flickering shut now even though Davos’s cock still filled him.

“Well…I do my thing, and then I kiss you til our lips hurt, and then we nap because we’re not young anymore, and then we do it all over again.”

“Oh?”

“And _you’re_ on top that time,” Davos said. He groaned. Stannis recognized the erratic way his hips were now twitching and the way his breath was catching as he tried to talk. “I’ve been looking forward to that part, too.”

 _So have I,_ Stannis thought, watching Davos’s face as it contorted with pleasure. _So have I._

 

 


End file.
